A Sirius Spectrum
by fuckingbrianaman
Summary: Sirius has always been one to live in the moment, but when he comes out to his friends he sets off a chain reaction that he never saw coming. He certainly didn't expect to fall in love, and with Remus, no less. Slash. Rated for future chapters.
1. Siriusly Impulsive

A Sirius Spectrum

_Siriusly Impulsive_

Sometimes Sirius did extremely stupid things, and sometimes he made decisions based off of nothing at all except for a hunch, or an urge. Sometimes he wished he could take back a word or a gesture, or that he could have a do-over. There were even a few occasions where he felt the need to apologize. Sirius would often say things he didn't mean, or inspire the ire of people he didn't want to anger. Days or weeks or months would pass and the only thing he would feel would be guilt. In short, Sirius Black knew how to Royally Bugger Up.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, he also had mastered the art of Making Everyone Happy. Sometimes he would find these strange words and string them together, and lo and behold! People loved them. He had his moments when the universe seemed to be completely balanced, and he, in turn, was utterly at ease with it. Unmeasured lengths of time would pass and be filled with springy giddiness and smiles, and often that was enough. His life was a strange combination of wonderful bliss and blaring errors, and Sirius loved every minute of it.

And why shouldn't he? It made him popular – gave him friends and admirers – and never ceased to hold his interest. He was often the first to admit that he had the attention span of a Niffler on gillyweed (smoking it, not ingesting it), and the wild emotional ups and downs that came with being Sirius suited him just fine.

But Sirius had done something, and this was the type of something that had him confused. Baffled, even. He couldn't yet tell if it was a case of Royally Buggering Up or Making Everyone Happy, and this bamboozled him. It had been impulsive and completely thoughtless, and yet he was sure it would make his life – and the lives of those around him – easier.

He, Remus, James and Peter had all been sitting in a compartment of the Express on their merry way to school, talking about their summer experiences, when Sirius made an announcement. He tried to say it, he really did, but in the end it came out as if he were vomiting up the sentence. Word Retching. Although, to be fair, he hadn't given it any thought beforehand, so he had no time to prepare himself. One second he had been listening to Remus talk about how his father had taken the entire household on a trip to go visit extend family, but enough about me, how was your holiday, Pads? And Sirius' mind sort of stopped for a moment while Remus was looking at him, and he when it kicked back in action he found that he had had spoken and spread private knowledge. Incriminating private knowledge. That was, now, no longer private.

"I found out I like blokes."

The silence that greeted his comment was deafening. Really, Sirius could have said any number of things, such as, "I had a gigantic row with my parents," or "I moved in with James," but those, apparently, would not do. They were too normal and socially acceptable for Sirius' autopilot function, and therefore, were no good. Peter had twitched.

James had recovered from his shock quickly enough, and jokingly asked why the hell he hadn't been told sooner, and just like that the situation was glossed over. Sirius was extremely grateful for James, and remembered why he was his best friend. Remus had simply blinked at him and looked confused.

Although the rest of the Marauders had assured him multiple times that they didn't care, and repeated that it was a good thing that he told them before he dragged some poor guy into his bed and left them wondering what had just happened, Sirius' stomach had felt awful for the rest of the trip. It was at the point where he had wondered if there was something wrong with the tracks, because the compartment seemed to rattle and bump much more than usual. The need to vomit – as in really be sick, and not just Word Retch – had been overwhelming. Despite his mates' vehement words to the contrary, he had had a nagging feeling that they were slightly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

When the Express had finally stopped, Sirius hadn't felt any better. Throughout the Sorting Ceremony, the feast, and the noisy trip back to the common room, he still felt as if he were about to be violently ill. James asked him repeatedly if he was going to be okay, and he had nodded and forced a smile.

Now Sirius was sitting in one of the plushy armchairs by the common room fire, staring blankly, and feeling moody. He wished James would hurry up and stop mingling so they could all go to bed, as he was clinging to the hope that sleep would finally loosen the horrible, twisting knot in his gut. The Announcement replayed itself over and over behind his eyes, and every time, it just made him feel nastier. Powerless to stop, he watched as it continued to cycle.

The worst part, Sirius was sure, had been his friends' reactions. James had been so shaken, despite his almost-held-together demeanor, and rightly so. He had just spent an entire summer with a man who, it turns out, was a poufer. They had slept in the same room – even shared a bed at times – and changed clothes in front of each other. While it was true that Sirius felt absolutely no sexual attraction towards his fellow Marauder, James had no way of knowing that. Sirius was really regretting eating that chicken now.

And Peter…! He had agreed with James, yes, but he had also been twitching for the rest of the train ride, and that was never a good sign. Twitching was just one step down from compulsively scratching, which was what Peter had done when they had confronted Remus about his lycanthropy.

_Remus._ The moment Sirius thought about him, his lower intestines tried to strangle his kidneys, because he realized something. Remus hadn't ever said it was okay. Sure, he had nodded and tried to smile, but he had kept his mouth decidedly shut until the conversation was quite far away from homosexuality.

_Oh, yeah,_ Sirius thought. _This is most definitely a case of Royally Buggering Up. Now Moony is going to hate me. _He could see it: Remus waking up extra early to be sure that he didn't have to share the bathroom with him; Remus "suggesting" that Sirius not come for the full moon anymore because he'd see him nude; Remus watching ever little thing he said or did so that he wouldn't accidentally let even the slightest of innuendos slip… The images, however abstract they may be, were scaring Sirius. He didn't want to lose one of his best friends, and he sure as hell wasn't aiming to make things awkward, but he had always felt as if he could be completely honest with the Marauders about everything. _Well, _he supposed, _until now. _

The fire was notably smaller than it had been when he first sad down, and the noise level had receded substantially, but Sirius still felt overly tense and precariously close to heaving.

"Padfoot?" inquired a voice to his right. _Speak of the devil, _thought Sirius.

"Moony," he replied, turning to face the man in question as he sat down in the other armchair. His eyes wouldn't meet Sirius', and he fiddled with a loose thread on the upholstery. _Here it comes._

"How're you holding up?"

Well. Sirius blinked; he hadn't been expecting that. "I'm alright, I guess. I feel a bit nauseous, and I'm preparing myself for the cold shoulder I'm going to get at any moment from you guys, but I s'pose, other than that, things are fine."

Remus sighed and looked at his hands, which he curled in his lap. "Look," he tried. "I don't... What I mean to say is, I guess – well, I'm just glad you told me, you know? Because it's better than not knowing, I mean, and…" He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and looked up again. "You don't care that I'm a…" He raised his eyebrows and gestured meaningfully towards the scar that ran across the bridge of his nose and down to his jaw. "And, the way I see it, we're even now, because it doesn't bother me. It's not nearly as bad, in comparison, and… Well… I only…" He shrugged and smiled helplessly. "It's you. I'm not going to start mocking you for it, or anything. You're my best mate." Remus paused and held Sirius' gaze. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"So… You don't… You're okay with it?"

Remus nodded, grinning a bit. "It'll take some getting used to, but it doesn't change anything, not really."

"I still like birds," said Sirius, deciding to just put everything out in the open. "I don't think I could, in any way, shape, or form, ever _not_ like women, but it's just that I also seem to quite enjoy blokes as well. Can we please stop talking about this, because I'm not designed for this sort of thing, and I think my head is about to implode."

Remus laughed, and not in a shaky, Merlin-I'm-so-weirded-out-right-now kind of way. It was genuine, and it made Sirius' insides relax for the first since he had made is impulsive declaration. "Good, because you've been sitting there catatonically for the past hour-and-a-half, and I'm tired of listening to James whine." He stood up, and Sirius followed suit, feeling monumentally lighter.

He trailed after Remus as he wove through the gaggle of people, even though he could clearly see where James and Peter were standing. Despite Remus' acceptance, he still wasn't sure how Prongs would act, now that he'd had some time to let it sink in. The knot in his stomach was forming again, albeit smaller than before.

James heard them approach and looked away from Peter, who was carrying on a conversation with a pretty fifth year girl. When he saw who it was his face lit up. He launched himself at Sirius and tackle-hugged him. "Padfoot! You're alive!" he shouted.

"Yes, I am indeed alive, although I'm now deaf as well."

"I was afraid I was going to have to carry you upstairs!" James had started rocking from side to side on his feet, taking Sirius with him.

"Let me go, you big buffoon," scolded Sirius, but he was grinning like mad as he did, and it leaked into his words. Fortunately, James released him.

"Okay, so now that you're done being Depressed McSadface, can we go to bed?"

Sirius' jaw hit the floor, and he gaped like a fish for a few seconds. "But – I – you – what? I was sitting over there for over an hour waiting for you – and you – waiting – stupid!" He huffed and glared.

"You mean to tell me that I could have gone to sleep ages ago?" asked Remus incredulously. "Merlin, Sirius! You're insufferable."

Sirius pouted when James laughed. He had been craving his plush fourposter for the majority of the night, and the news that he could have returned to it at any moment put him off just a bit. But Remus extracted Peter from the fifth year and they all went upstairs together, so Sirius decided that it was okay.

Before disappearing into the lavatory to brush his teeth, Peter turned to Sirius.

"If I manage to get a date with Thyme, you're going to help me get ready and whatnot before hand, yeah?"

Sirius, slightly taken aback and definitely confused, immediately became defensive (and went ahead and assumed that Thyme had been the girl Peter had been talking to). "What the hell makes you think I'd agree to that? I tell you that I quite fancy kissing blokes, and suddenly I'm an effing _hair dresser_?"

Peter looked shocked and scared. "No! I didn't mean it like that at all! You're just excellent at that sort of rubbish, and I've wanted to ask you before, but I figured you'd bite my head off (sort of like you're doing now, but I wasn't making fun of you, I swear), and now that you've said you're gay, I figured –"

"Actually, he swings both ways," said Remus, without even looking up from the trunk he was unpacking. Sirius felt his heart swell with an illogical rush of affection for the borderline-neurotic werewolf.

"Well, whichever. The point is that it has very little to do with his sexual preferences, and more to do with his skills with hair gel. Padfoot, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound rude and inconsiderate like something you or Prongs'd say. Please don't eat me."

"Oi!" said James, but Sirius ignored him, and instead opted to just eye Peter until he squirmed.

"Fine," he said with a nod once he was satisfied. "I accept. I'll volunteer my time to your helpless case."

When they changed into their pyjamas, no one hid in the bathroom, or pulled the hangings around their bed closed. There were no fairy jokes, or even any wary glances. Slowly, Sirius loosened up again and let himself appreciate his friends and their fantastic ability to accept. He climbed into bed, closed his curtains, and fell asleep with a stupid smile plastered on his face and the unbidden memory of Remus' laughter dancing in his ears.

**Author's Note: In case you haven't figured out, this is the first instillation of a new chapter fic I'm working on. This will be the second ever story I've written for here that I began with the intent of continuing, and I am a ready for the daunting task ahead of me! I've got bits of other chapters already written out, but on the whole, I'm just letting this come to me while I write. It's an approach I've never used before. **

**Please review and let me know what you thought. Reviews make me **_**very**_** happy, and I reply to as many as I can, which is usually all of them.**


	2. Siriusly Pretty

_Siriusly Pretty_

Pete did, in fact, manage to get a date with Thyme, and it only took about a week and a half for him to work up the nerve to ask. Sirius did end up helping him primp, and even had a hell of a good time doing it. Sure, Peter was completely inept at anything that could possibly make him look good, but he was a right riot when he was nervous and babbling.

"What is that? Eggs? Why are you putting eggs in my hair?"

"To make you beautiful, of course."

"But what if I embarrass myself and my face gets all red and hot and it cooks them so they're all scrambled and smelly _and in my hair? _She'll think I'm some sort of maniacal, chicken-obsessed freak! No. No, no, no, no, no. Get your damned eggs away from me. Put down that spoon. I mean it, Sirius! NO! AHH!"

"If you don't shut up right now I'm going to call Moony in here and have him go all 'Werewolf' on your arse."

"What about werewolves?" asked Remus as he entered the lavatory. Sirius didn't turn around immediately, as he was too busy struggling with Peter, but when he did he just stared, mouth gaping open in a wonderful imitation of a codfish.

"Stop looking at me," said Remus uncomfortably. Sirius did no such thing.

"I can't."

"Well, why not?"

"Erm, I don't know if anyone's told you yet, but your hair is pink."

"Yes, I am aware of this."

"I think it looks good on him, actually," said Peter.

"How, exactly, did this happen?" Sirius set down the bowl of raw eggs and the wooden spoon and leaned against the sink, waiting to hear a thrilling tale.

"Prongs."

"James transfigured your hair to look like bubblegum?" asked Pete. He sounded a lot less uptight now that Sirius wasn't trying to rub yolk all over his scalp.

"No, of course not," answered Remus with a snort. "He's rubbish with feminine colors, you know that. No, it was Lily –"

"But you just said it was Prongsie," interrupted Sirius.

"No, I said that he was how it happened, not that he actually did it."

"That doesn't make sense,"

"Wormtail. Shut up and let the man talk, or else I'll do something much worse than just –"

"Both of you close your crooked traps! Anyways, there I was, minding my own business – and don't you smirk at me like that; when _I _say I was minding my own business, _I _mean it. So I was sitting in the library with Lily working on prefect stuff you guys wouldn't care about, and then James randomly shows up and starts shouting something about pudding or whatever –"

"Yeah, he found out that the house-elves have a secret stash of spiked pudding and if you go to the kitchens and ask for Ottsie –"

"And so I tell him to please leave, because it was a library and Pince was bound to show up and any moment and go off about degradation or some sort of nonsense, and he pouts and says that I'm too uptight and I need to relax and have some fun. Then Lily goes all HBIC on his sorry self –"

"HBIC?" asked Peter, looking confused.

"It stands for Head Bitch in Charge, except Moony won't actually say the word 'bitch,' so he acronyms it."

"Yes, because I don't like cursing if I don't have to, unlike some people," said Remus, giving Sirius a pointed look. "As I was saying, Lily tells him off for being a slacker, procrastinator, and a general lay-about. James, of course, denies it, and says to Lily – and I quote – 'Geez, Evans, who shoved their cock up your arse?'"

"He did not," gasped Sirius, his hand flying to his mouth in surprise.

"He did! And so, naturally, she tries to hex him, except that he's already running by this time, and he happens to take the route that leads him behind me, and so she misses and I get hit instead."

"And all she was trying to do was change his hair color?" asked Peter incredulously. "That's it?"

"Well, no. She had to help me get rid of the boils and the tail, but for some reason the rest –" He gestured to his head and Sirius noticed that his eyes were also the same shocking shade of pink as his hair was, instead of their normal amber. "– didn't want to be fixed."

"How long will it last? Do you know? Stop poking me, Pete; I'll get back to you in a minute."

"You two sound like gossiping women. I'm going to go sit in the common room. Come get me when your testosterone comes back so you can do my hair."

Peter left with a huff, but Sirius barely noticed. He was slightly blinded by the brilliant florescent mop that was resting on Remus' head.

"I've no idea. Anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks, but I'm just hypothesizing, here. She was, to say the least, quite angry when she cast the spell, so it's anyone's guess how much Oomph she put behind it."

"D'you care for the honest opinion of a partially non-heterosexual male?"

"As long as you're referring to yourself and not that Bulstrode bloke; he's madder than your mother, and he frightens me a bit."

"Of course I'm talking about _moi!_ When aren't I?"

"Fair point."

Sirius looked over Remus from head to toe, letting his eyes trace the lines of the werewolf's body. The pink, while utterly ridiculous, complimented his facial structure nicely. It brought out the sharpness of his cheekbones and the slope of his nose. "Turn to the side," ordered Sirius.

"Why?"

"I need to see if it makes your arse look big."

Remus complied, but not without heaving a sigh. "How is the color of my hair going to affect my butt?"

"Don't question me."

Sirius continued to force him turn, walk, and make different facial expressions. He had completely forgotten about helping Peter and was totally absorbed in looking at Remus.

In the end he decided that yes, the pink hair was good. Not only did it accentuate his facial features, but it also brightened up his complexion, took focus away from his scars (not that Sirius minded them, but Remus was extremely self-conscious about anything connected to his time of the month), made him look taller, and accented his wonderfully pretty lips.

_Wait,_ thought Sirius. _Where did that come from?_ Thinking about Remus in any way other than completely platonic was a Bad Idea. In capitals. Because it was just _not good_. Remus was Remus, sometimes Moony, and often Remy. But never was Sirius allowed to think of him as anything remotely sexual.

Quickly shoving the thought away, Sirius voiced his conclusion. "I wouldn't say keep it permanently, but it's an attractive way to spice up your otherwise mundane appearance."

"Oi! Just because I'm not constantly rubbing some sort of product all over my face doesn't mean I'm 'mundane!'"

"No, of course not, Moony dearest! You couldn't be considered mundane by even the wildest stretch of the imagination. If aliens from planet Boring came and tried to brainwash you, their equipment would explode. You're a werewolf, for Merlin's sake! No, you are very, very far from 'mundane.'"

"Good," said Remus with a nod as he crossed his arms. "And don't you forget it."

"Now, the way you look, on the other hand…"

Sirius laughed and ran for it as Remus charged after him, wand in hand.

* * *

"Oh. My God. Padfoot? You're bloody brilliant!" exclaimed Peter as he barged into the dormitory some hours later.

"I take it the date went well, then?" asked Remus from behind his book. Peter dropped his jumper on his bed, and then flopped down next to it.

"She loved my hair! She loved it! She specifically told me, 'Pete, I just love your hair!'"

"I'm a genius, I know, I know," said Sirius as he came out of the lavatory, bowing deeply.

"Yeah, and so modest, too," added James from behind him.

"Oh, shut up, you know I'm amazing."

"You really are," said Pete. "You're a god among men. You're Adonis. You're my sun! You're my moon! You're –"

"Already arrogant enough," said Remus without looking up, "so let's tone down the compliments, yeah?"

"Aw, c'mon Moony, you know you want to tell me how fabulous I am," said Sirius, joining the werewolf on his bed.

Remus finally glanced away from his book – _Taming the Echidna _– and turned his face to the ceiling. "Oh, dear," he deadpanned, "you have found me out. Yes, it is true. I want nothing more than to exalt your beauty for the rest of my days."

"Damn straight, you do," said Sirius, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest. Remus glared at him.

"Get off my bed. Go sit with James and Peter."

"Ain't enough room; these beds are teeny," said James. "Scoot your butt, Worm."

"'Ain't' isn't proper grammar," corrected Remus.

"Whatever," snapped Peter as he tried to make more room for James. "The point is! Thank you, Padfoot, for making me the happiest sixth year in this school."

"I _am_ wonderful, aren't I?" Sirius dramatically sighed and smiled, as if exceptionally pleased with himself.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

"I will, Prongs. I will."

**Author's Note: Chapter two! Oh my gosh, I'm excited, are you excited? Hehehe! I really should be doing my Algebra II homework, but I wanted to update this as soon as I could, so you guys better love me! Wait, what am I talking about? It's me that loves you! I mean, really! Eight reviews for ONE CHAPTER? You have no idea how happy you people made me! *Wipes tears from eyes* I love you all! But... Would you please be so fabulous as so to review some more? I send you kisses aplenty! Is that even a word? Whatever; the spell check isn't blaring at me, so I'm going to say yes, it is. **


	3. Siriusly Strange

**Author's Note: For no good reason other than that I want to, this chapter is dedicated to Shacklebolt's Mistress and MissPronounced. May they enjoy.**

_Siriusly Strange_

Three days later and Remus' hair still hadn't gone back to its normal color, and neither had his eyes. After being scared out of his wits when he saw it at sometime around seven in the morning on the first day, Sirius quickly grew used to it, and would've gone so far as to say he was partial to the look if someone asked (except that no one did, so he kept that particular tidbit of information to himself).

In fact, now that he was allowing himself to see it, there were quite a few characteristics about members of the male population of Hogwarts that he was more than fond of. Amos Diggory's little brother Mathis had excellent, well-toned arms that would be perfect for push-ups and other (more desirable) activities. Henrik VanVoorn, on the other hand, had the chiseled chest of a god (a fact which Sirius learned from spying on Ravenclaw's Quidditch practices for James). Devon Harris' arse was beyond impressive, and Sirius found his eyes drawn to it on several occasions, despite the fact that that arse belonged in Slytherin. Daniel Crater, Gerald Dom, and Yves Dupont all commonly entertained Sirius' random bursts of raunchy fantasy at the most inopportune times, and he loved them for it.

Sirius looked at almost every man at the school, including some of the teachers (but most definitely _not _including Snape), and he looked well. Constantly on the metaphorical prowl, he had re-invented and refined the art of using the peripherals for not-so-savory spying.

Now, this isn't to say that he had suddenly become some sort of extreme sex-fanatic; the opposite was the case, even. Sirius had developed a small (and oh-so unhealthy) infatuation that had his dreams locked on one person, and checking out every other human with a prick was simply his way of coping. He never asked to be attracted to Remus, after all.

It was that damned pink hair, and those damned pink eyes, he was sure. As strange a kink as they might be, he was positive that they were to blame for his insane libido as of late. It really wasn't fair, either. No man should look so bloody alluring with such a ridiculous color perched on their head, but somehow Remus managed it.

It was easy enough to ignore in almost every normal situation, but Transfiguration was Sirius' personal version of hell.

Remus sat in the seat next to him then. Every time he would whisper explanations for some concept that had eluded Sirius, or lean over to pick up the quill he had dropped, or even just _laugh _at something, Sirius would suddenly find his trousers a smidge too tight and the room too stuffy to be comfortable. McGonagall must have been taking lessons from that batty old man in the Divination department, because she seemed to know exactly when he was too busy trying not to picture one of his best mates naked to pay attention, and it was always at those moments that she called on him. Matters were then consistently made worse by Remus' half-hidden smile at his expense.

Their relationship changed not at all, though. They still tossed their playful banter back and forth, Slytherins were still mercilessly taunted, and Sirius still didn't understand Arithmancy. To be clear, Sirius didn't _fancy_ Remus, despite his wanting in his pants. Stupid he may be, but not foolish.

But – dash it all – he wanted to see that hair messy and damp splayed out on a pillow in all of its rosy glory, and he wanted to look into those eyes and find them darkened with lust, and he wanted to know that he had been the one to do that, and god damn it, he was hard again, but he could not – could _not_ – touch himself to _Remus_ of all people. (At least not while conscious.)

Sirius was beginning to realize that perhaps the dorm shower wasn't the best place to contemplate Remus' possible sexual skills.

In an attempt to distract himself, Sirius pictured his brother Regulus and Peter snogging in great detail.

It worked like a charm.

Later that night Sirius realized that the full moon was approaching with a frightening velocity. They'd already been back at school about two weeks, and normally he would have noticed something like this days ago, but here he was, and the moon was staring at him from only forty-eight hours away.

It wasn't The Night Of that had him so worried, though. It was the night before; the few hours in which Remus would crawl into his bed and cuddle close, and Sirius would pretend like normal people did this all the time.

Ever since Remus' grandfather had renounced him as family back when Mr. and Mrs. Lupin had explained their son's furry little problem, Remus (who had only been eight at the time) had suffered from horrible abandonment issues. From what Sirius had pieced together (which was a surprisingly large amount), the thing the werewolf was most afraid of in the world was biting someone he loved while transformed; but coming up in a close second was being loathed for what he was. Once the Marauders had figured out his secret, Remus had taken to sleeping in Sirius' bed every night before the full moon. The very first time it hadn't really started out like that at all, though –

[Sirius was wretched from a dream he wouldn't remember in a few minutes time by a sharp shake. Thinking the worst, he sat up with a jerk and threw his hands out dramatically. "What has happened, who has been hurt, and please let James, Remus and Peter be alright," he tried to say, but it came out more like, "Wazgooin'who," which didn't really make sense at all.

"Sirius," questioned a whispered but urgent voice that sounded fluorescently familiar. "Can I talk to you?"

Regaining the use of his senses, Sirius scooted over to allow a pyjama-clad Remus to settle down beside him on his bed. "Yeah, sure," he said, puzzled. "Anything."

Remus didn't reply at first, and instead stared determinedly at his feet, which were criss-crossed in front of him. _Indian-style_, thought Sirius, reminded an American woman who he had once met in a tea shop. She had used the term while describing a Chinese ceremony and it had stuck with him.

The room was cold, dark, and heavy with the omnipresent snores of Peter Pettigrew. Sirius shivered and pulled his bed hangings closed, in part for something to do so he wouldn't feel so out of place, but largely because he was freezing.

After what could only be described as pregnant pause, Remus spoke.

"What am I going to do?"

He whispered it, almost as if he were afraid to admit to his lack of confidence or wisdom. But Sirius made it out, and he understood what his friend was trying so desperately to convey without proper words.

"Well, I suppose you'll just do what you've always done. Except, of course, now you'll do it with friends."

Remus grimaced, and what little light was filtering through the curtains and the air threw his features into a strange relief. "You aren't trying to be funny, are you? Because that'd be low, even for you."

"Oh, bugger. You're right; that does sound dirty. Didn't realize that, but I'm being sincere, mate. I'd say I'm being serious, but I'm always him."

"Ha, ha," said Remus humorlessly.

There was another break in the conversation, and Sirius felt as if this one was due to go into contractions at any moment.

"But," continued Remus finally, "you mean it, right? I don't have to worry about you guys disappearing tomorrow, or anything, do I?"

Sirius felt a tugging at his chest, and – not enjoying the sensation – made a fast decision. Hoping his manhood would still be in tact in the morning, he swiftly pulled Remus into a hug. The other boy initially tensed up, but – most likely upon realizing that he wasn't being smacked or otherwise harmed – relaxed within a few moments. He tentatively returned the gesture and sighed in Sirius' shoulder.

"We aren't going anywhere, okay? We've grown quite fond of you and your smart-person humor and we'd like to keep you around." Sirius felt Remus nod, and he made one of his signature impulsive suggestions.

"Look, why don't you sleep with me tonight? Like, for comfort and whatnot."

Remus pulled away from the should-be-awkward embrace and put on his Debating Expression. Sirius, although only having had the boy in his life for less than two years at that time, already knew the face well.

"Alright," said Remus after a hefty bit of hesitation. "Sure."]

Somehow, over time it had become a tradition. Every eve of the full moon Remus would come to Sirius' bed, and they would share the space for the night. They never spoke of the arrangement to the other Marauders, and if James and Peter knew of it on their own, they never brought it up. Sirius considered it to be his dirty little secret and often would pretend that Remus was Regulus, and that they weren't fighting, and that Remus-turned-Regulus hated their parents just as much as Sirius himself did. It was a stupid and pointless fantasy, he knew, but the hole he had in his chest that he assumed his family had left was always miraculously filled when he let his silly little imaginings play out, so he didn't fight it.

But Sirius didn't know how Remus felt about their strange schedule now that he had openly admitted to fancying blokes. Part of him wanted Remus to show up, because if he didn't it would mark a major blow to their friendship. On the other hand, he didn't know if he'd be able to stand sleeping with new Sexy Remus in his bed all night. He had the feeling that Remus and Regulus would no longer be morph-able in his mind, but he hoped that if they were they would both keep their bloody clothes on.

Suddenly Sirius was pulled out of his strange and redundant musings by the door to the dorm and the loud _bang_ it made when it hit the wall. He jumped up from the position of vague relaxation he had taken up on his bed and into one of startled befuddlement. Standing in the doorway was a humanoid creature that bore a few striking similarities to one James Potter. It was panting for breath and struggling to enter the room with its large, swollen feet. It looked as if bats were trying to eat the paper-white skin off of its face, and its limbs were all un-proportionally long. A grotesque gurgling noise swam through the air, and Sirius realized with a start that the thing had made it.

It looked at him, and he noticed that its eyes were two different colors – one red, and one bright yellow.

"Pads!" it shouted. "Quick, you've got to help me! She's coming, and if she finds me she'll kill me, and she already did this, and you wouldn't let her kill your best mate, now would you? But you've got to hurry, because my feet are stuck and I can't –"

"Wait," interrupted Sirius. "Prongs?"

"Yes, it's me, now help!"

"Who?" asked Sirius, hoping James/The Swamp Monster knew what he meant.

"Lily, of course! She just now finally caught up to me, but I don't have time to explain! Get off your arse and _HELP ME!_"

So help him Sirius did, and they managed to shut and lock the door just in time, because moments after the tumbler had clicked, Lily came storming up the stairs and screaming bloody-murder.

"POTTER, I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, AND IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR SORRY, PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR AN ARSE OUT HERE RIGHT THIS BLOODY MINUTE, I SWEAR ON THE RIVER STYX I WILL HEX YOUR BULLOCKS OFF!"

"Charming woman," whispered Sirius under his breath. Not in the mood to spend the next half-hour listening to Evans curse about James, he took a hold of the back of his mate's shirt and dragged him into the lavatory (an act that was more than difficult, what with his kidnapee's feet being horrendously bloated and all), which he promptly barricaded. They each found a semi-clean patch of floor and made their bums at home on them. Sirius and James pooled their collective knowledge of counter-curses together and managed to get rid of the bats, the strangely sized feet, and the unhealthily pasty skin. The rest they agreed to leave for Remus.

"So how'd this happen?" asked Sirius after they discovered that trying to shrink arms and legs to get them back into proportion was a bad idea.

"Well, I've been avoiding her for the past three days, you know? Because of the whole "cock" comment, right? So I thought I was doing pretty well, and I guess that was my mistake, but she cornered me today in the common room and she yelled at me, and I didn't even realize she had been hexing me, but I don't think she did either. She didn't have her wand on her, see. It was all because she was irked. Majorly irked. And then Worm came to my rescue, thank Merlin, and somehow I got away and she was being held back, but about at the third step from the top my toes started feeling funny, and next thing I know I can't walk. So I hobble to the door, and you help, and here we are."

"That is a fascinating story," said Sirius after a pause. "But you do realize that you changed tenses about half way through, don't you?"

"What?"

"Never mind. 'Snot important."

"So what do we do now? Just sit here and wait for Moony to come save our sorry rumps?"

"'Our?' What is this 'our' business? I am at perfect liberty to leave at any point in time. It is you, my dear, dear friend, who is trapped in this damp and dreary toilet. Well, I mean you _could_ leave, but you want to keep your dangly bits, don't you?"

James sighed. "Whatever. She's a bloody hag. Don't know why I bother with her."

Sirius didn't reply, even though he knew the answer. This wasn't one of those sorts of situations.

They sat in silence for a good length, but Sirius could see words bubbling up inside of James. He wanted to say something, and it was going to take him a monster set of testicles to spit it out. Sirius kept his mouth shut and waited. Finally James spoke.

"Why does she hate me? I mean, even Pete's getting some! I'm fairly certain Remus snogs books, and you could get anything that _moves_ to sleep with you, so… I just… Why not me, you know?"

Sirius, in one of his few moments of deep insight, understood completely. James wasn't just jealous and peeved; he honestly wanted to know why he wasn't good enough for Evans.

"I don't think it's just you so much anymore, if it helps. She and Snivellus were pretty chummy up until that little scene last year (when he called her a you-know-what), and I suppose she's still damn sore about that. Plus you know she's got her prefect issues to deal with, and then Remus said she only earned an E in potions, and apparently she's freaked out about that. I don't know, but maybe she's just taking it all out on you?"

James sniffed pitifully. "But _why? _Why me?"

"Because she wants you in her knickers?"

A mock-angry punch on the arm, a poorly aimed kick, and a slew of juvenile name-calling later, and they were rolling around on the grubby floor wrestling. James clearly had the advantage, since his arms and legs were currently about twice as long as a normal human's, but Sirius refused to accept defeat, despite the fact that he could barely breathe from laughing. In the end, James was merciful and called it a draw.

Sitting there, trying to catch his breath and smiling like a loon with his best mate, Sirius had the random and overpowering urge to tell James all about his recent Remus-centric fantasies. It would be easy; nothing more than Word Retching, precisely as he had done back on the train. James would sympathize with his plight, and possibly even try to help hook him up with their wolfish friend.

But Sirius – for once in his life – smothered the impulse. He didn't want to be "hooked up" with Remus. _What a ridiculous notion!_ Sirius wanted in his trousers, yes, but he didn't – in any way, shape, or form – want to have a _relationship_ with him. It was preposterous!

Or, at least, that's what Sirius tried to tell himself as he leaned his head back against the tiled wall.

For the next seventeen minutes he stayed in that position and waited to be freed by Moony, while simultaneously attempting to convince himself that he wasn't in deep shit.

**Author's Note: Yeah, so this one took a tad bit longer. Sorry. School work and what-not. I'm feeling kind of sickly right now, but I missed getting writing done, so I disobeyed my parental units' orders, and got on the computer anyways. Drop me a line and tell me what you thought? I love you!**


	4. Siriusly Something

**Author's Note: Dedicated to chronicxxxinsanity, because she cared to ask; and to Double Mirror, in the hopes that it makes her smile. **

_Siriusly Something_

The room was exceptionally dark for an almost-full-moon night. The cloud cover was thick and stubborn. Sirius stared at the ceiling and tried not to feel sick to his stomach, but he wasn't succeeding, since Remus wasn't lying beside him. It must've been almost one in the morning, but still there was no sign of his wolfish best friend. Mentally repeating "I only want to punch a wall because I am tired, and sleep deprived people always felt the need to destroy things made of plaster" wasn't working to sooth his nerves; so he laid there and sulked, and refused to admit that he was purposefully staying awake. He ignored that he wasn't even blinking.

Time rolled by like a lonely tumbleweed from one of those amazing Muggle westerns Peter had shown him. Sirius passed it by trying to convince himself that he was overreacting, and thinking up good similes for time.

_Thump._

He was suddenly opulently alert. The sound had come from his right, the side on which there was only one bed, and that bed belonged to Remus. Hoping beyond hope that the other bloke didn't become aware of his state of awake-ness, Sirius kept perfectly silent. There was some shuffling, a muffled bumping noise, a stretch of silence, and then a long, drawn-out sigh before – finally – footsteps approached his bed. The entire dorm seemed to hold its breath, including Sirius, who was praying fervently that the sporadic beating of his heart would _shut the hell up._

The curtains were pulled open and he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. He didn't even turn his head.

"Sirius?" questioned Remus' tentative voice. Sirius' mouth couldn't form a reply. "Is it alright if we still do this?" continued the werewolf. "I can't sleep… I wasn't going to come, but… I didn't want to make you feel awkward or obligated or anything, but you've never minded before… I just…" He trailed off.

Sirius nodded to the ceiling, hyper-aware of every extremity of his body and they strange tingling they were undergoing. Remus was _right bloody there_, with his brilliant pink hair that was – Sirius assumed – messy from his pillow. It probably looked exactly like it would after… (_Oohhh… Don't go there; bad idea…_) His heart hadn't quieted in the slightest, nor was it likely that it would in the near future. Remus slipped under the covers.

All of the blood in Sirius' body surged southwards, but somehow he still managed to blush. Remus scooted closer, and Sirius could almost feel him. The bed was far too small for the two of them. Body heat made itself known. He wished he could go back to wanting to punch a wall.

Remus scooted closer, and Sirius automatically wrapped an arm around him. The heat intensified, and he hoped that the darkness covered his arousal properly. Neither of them said anything, and the moon steadily sunk. Sirius let his eyes fall shut as Remus' breathing slowed. He was comfortable, despite the stuffy atmosphere, and Remus smelled good.

"Did your family learn about you likingblokes? Is that why they kicked you out?"

Sirius snapped back into reality, startled to find that he had almost fallen asleep. Remus' question was one that touched a nerve, though, and Sirius knew he had to nip that line of questioning in the bud.

"What? No, they didn't 'kick me out;' I ran away," he snapped, hoping to deter the werewolf.

Remus paused as if expecting more, and immediately Sirius felt awkward and rude. He sighed and, refusing to accept what it meant that he'd caved so easily, told him.

"It wasn't because they found out, either. It was Regulus. He had some of his so-called _friends_ over and they'd thought it'd be funny to mess with me a bit. Fucking McNair. He probably told Reg that they were only going to do something stupid – maybe said they would get rid of the Muggle pictures I've got on my wall. Whatever they it was, they didn't do it. The stupid bastards set my bed on fire. I complained to mum and daddy dearest, but they didn't give a damn, so I decided that it was preferable to live with James than to fear for my life every time we had _guests_ over."

Remus, whose head was resting on Sirius' shoulder, raised his face to Sirius'. "How do you know it wasn't Regulus who planned the whole thing?"

Then the Word Retching started. Sirius had been so adamant with James that he not tell anyone, not even the other Marauders, and yet he himself instantly spilled everything to Remus in this dark room in the middle of the night with a bloody broomstick in his pants. Sirius pushed away the acknowledgement that was flitting around at the back of his mind. This meant _nothing._

"Regulus wouldn't. He and I… We were close. We never agreed about our parents, but other than that we didn't normally fight." Sirius paused, thinking. "I remember back in first year, when he found out I had been sorted into Gryffindor. He cried. Mum and Dad hadn't told him, never even mentioned it to the other family, probably because they didn't want anyone to know about their disgrace of a son. But when I started talking about school after I'd come home… He just put two and two together and started bawling. He told me he didn't want to be a Slytherin if I wasn't.

"There's no way he would've let them do that if he'd known."

Sirius felt Remus nod, and he looked down. He could feel the length of Remus' body pressed against his, and, despite the darkness, he could see Remus' eyes clearly, as the bright pink seemed to have its own light source. Remus didn't look away, and Sirius' heart – which had quieted for a brief time – began thudding with a vengeance, as did his cock. How simple it would be to run his fingers through that brilliant hair… How easy to lean forward a few centimeters and capture those perfect lips between his own… To lose himself in this moment, this wonderful little cocoon, this _something_…

Sirius, being impulsive as he was, had to indulge, if only a little. _Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea,_ the rational (and notably miniscule) portion of his brain screamed at him, but he couldn't help it. Not with the bed so small, and the heat so predominate, and his cock so bloody _hard. _He closed the distance between Remus and himself and ever-so-tenderly placed a soft kiss on the other almost-man's forehead.

"Shirt-lifter," said Remus with an affectionate smile.

Sirius didn't mind.

* * *

"Quidditch try-outs are in three days!" shouted an excited James Potter. "It's about bloody time!"

"How d'you know?" interjected Sirius, who was lounging in his favorite armchair by the common room fire, watching Peter and Remus struggle to play chess. They were both rubbish at it, but at least Remus had an excuse, as he had just gotten out of the Hospital Wing. Peter couldn't strategize to save his life.

"Frank just came up to me and told me," replied James in a manner that could only be described as buoyantly. His bum found rest in the chair opposite Sirius'. "He remembered that I wanted to go out for Chaser again. You still interested in being a Beater?"

"Oh, don't worry. Padfoot's a beater through and through," remarked Remus with a suggestive eyebrow waggle. Sirius' heart gave an inappropriate leap, which he tried to ignore. It had been doing that all day, but he chalked it up to a ridiculous subconscious memory of the pink hair, which was now – thankfully – gone.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Peter.

"Don't worry, Worm," said James. "Moony's only being lewd." He turned back to Sirius. "So are you going to try out with me or not?"

"'Course I am," said Sirius with a grin. "Why wouldn't I?"

James paused, looking awkward. "Well, I was thinking, what with Regulus and all…"

"What about him?" spat Sirius, suddenly on his guard.

"He's playing this year."

"He's Slytherin's new Seeker," added Peter.

"Check," said Remus.

Sirius debated. If he were to get picked as a Beater then he would have a perfect drive to win the games – he'd, of course, have to completely slaughter Slytherin. But on the other hand, he doubted he'd be able to smack one of those insane Bludgers at his little brother. He knew Regulus didn't handle pain well, and he had the experience to prove it –

["Reg! What, in Merlin's name, are you doing?" shouted an eleven-year-old Sirius to his brother, who was hovering daringly close to a plum tree on a broom far too large for him to handle.

"Picking," shouted Regulus back at him. "What does it look like?"

Sirius shook his head in exasperation. "It looks like you've gone barmy, that's what!"

"C'mon, it's just a way to kill time! Mum won't be here for another half-hour, so I might as well have a bit of fun!" Regulus leaned forward ever so slightly on the broom and it eased forward. Reaching out an arm, he plucked one ripe plum from its branch. "Want it?"

"You're nuts, but yeah, why not?"

Regulus dropped the fruit, and Sirius caught it smoothly. He took a bite and watched as his brother grew more comfortable on the giant broom. At one point Sirius dashed off to find a large container so they could take some of the plums home, and luckily located a bucket in the broom shed. Together they moved around the orchard, picking the whole way.

Upon reaching one particularly large tree, Regulus had to fly higher. From his spot on the ground, Sirius could see that the wind was whipping harder farther up, and Regulus was having a difficult time staying balanced. The heavy branches were swaying dangerously around him, and Sirius knew what was going to happen before it did.

Regulus leaned forward as he had done dozens of times before, and he stretched out a hand. He couldn't see how off-center he was on the broom, but Sirius could, and his stomach clenched from a terrifying sense of foreboding. A strong gust of wind rolled through the tree tops, Regulus slipped, the broom bucked, and its rider fell. He didn't even shout; Sirius was doing enough of that for the both of them.

Regulus tumbled through the air, head over feet, jumper billowing behind him, and when he landed Sirius heard the wet _crack_ of bones breaking, and, _Oh shit, his leg, his leg isn't supposed to be bent like that_. Sirius' throat closed up and the screaming was taken over by Regulus, who was also crying, and Sirius ran to his brother, but he couldn't do a damn thing, because he didn't even have a wand yet, but _bloody hell_ Regulus' screaming was loud, and in his ear, and he was crying and screaming and begging, and there wasn't a damn thing Sirius could do.]

But, ironically, the same little boy who'd pleaded with Sirius to "_Please, oh Merlin, please Bubba, make it stop, it hurts, oh gods, it hurts,_" had also stood in the doorway to Grimmauld Place with a stony expression of hatred as Sirius had heaved his pack onto his motorbike, kick-started it, and driven off for the last time. He had offered no apology for his 'friends' behavior, nor had he said goodbye.

"Yeah," murmured Sirius to James. "Yeah, I'm still in."

"Check mate," said Remus.

**Author's Note: Sorry it took me a little longer to update, but life gets in the way, you know? In case you're curious, the next chapter is most likely going to involve the return of Devon Harris (if you remember him), and possibly the Marauder's Map, although, I won't feel the need to update unless I know what people think about it… Hint, hint, nudge, nudge…**


	5. Siriusly Twisted

_Siriusly Twisted_

Sirius wasn't really sure what made him do it, nor was he certain that he truly wanted it. Either way, though, it didn't matter. It was real, it was happening, and it felt _good._ The water cascading down his back was almost burning his skin, yet he couldn't feel it over the fantastic sensation of Devon Harris' mouth wrapped around his cock.

Sirius also wasn't entirely clear on how it had happened. He had just left Quidditch try-outs (at which he had a feeling he had done spectacularly) and the locker room had been almost empty. He had, par normal, slipped into one of the shower stalls and proceeded to take an absurd amount of time to wash his hair, and next thing he knew the Slytherin had pushed back the curtain and announced that he would be joining. Sirius hadn't even been aware that Harris Chased for the same team, but it was evident now. And, judging by his positively fabulous skills with his tongue, he had for a while.

Harris' hair was short and yellowy-blond and quite nice for Sirius to weave his fingers through. He – Sirius – might have yanked. He couldn't be certain, though, as the only thing he could think with any semblance of coherency was something along the lines of _fucking Christ!_

It felt really bloody _good._

Sirius thrust into that mouth and didn't give a single thought as to whether or not the dressing room was empty, or how in the name of Merlin's saggy left ball sac Harris had found him out, or why a _Slytherin_ was on his knees in the first place. No, he was too busy repeating profanities to entertain any other notion.

Harris hummed and swallowed, and Sirius could feel the _back of his fucking throat._

It didn't occur to Sirius that Harris most definitely had an ulterior motive, or that someone was going to find out, or that the hot water was due to turn freezing any minute. All thoughts were wiped from his brain by that _goddamned motherfucking mouth_.

When Sirius came, he was too busy being his impulsive self to realize how entirely twisted the whole situation was.

Reality didn't set in when he dropped to the hard tile floor to return the favor, or when Harris pulled him in for a sloppy and heated kiss afterwards. He felt no guilt when Harris told him this was a one-time only event, nor was he bitter when the other almost-man left. Only when he turned off the water was his afterglow penetrated.

And as Fate would have it, the first thing he thought of was Remus, and his Happy Bubble was promptly popped.

Sirius toweled off, and tried desperately not to let the image of Remus admonishing him for his recent actions turn into an image of Remus joining in. Or worse – Remus beating the bogies out of Harris in a fit of jealously.

_Mmmm… Jealous Moony… _

Sirius admitted how completely buggered he was: This was slowly developing into more than simply being attracted to his mate; this was growing into a huge, rainbow flower of _fancying_, and soon the entire bloody school was going to see his strange, perverse secret.

Not liking the twisted feeling in his gut, Sirius pushed such thoughts aside. He really didn't want to have to deal with that; not now, not ever. Remus was only a friend, and he was a very _straight_ friend, at that. As Sirius dressed and made his way back to the common room, he continued to tell himself so.

_Perhaps,_ he decided, _I just need someone else to distract me… _A girlfriend, maybe? Or would that come off as denial? He wondered if a boyfriend would be a better choice, despite having to stick that other foot out of the metaphorical closet. He didn't think the Quidditch team would take too kindly to that bit of information, were he to make it, but other than that, a bit of male arm-candy seemed like the best option.

Except he was the only gay student at Hogwarts he knew other than Harris and Bulstrode, and they were both in Slytherin. Sirius supposed he could owl the man he'd had a fling with over the summer, but he had said he didn't do long distance relationships, and – quite frankly – neither did Sirius.

Without realizing it, he had reached the entrance to the common room. "Scamander," he said to the Fat Lady. He stepped through the revealed doorway as she swung forward, and was promptly attacked by a blur of dark red hair. "Where the hell is he, Black? I know you know!"

"Get away from me, you barmy bint!" shouted Sirius. Lily balled her hands into fists and began pummeling his arms and chest. "Woman! Damn it, Evans, cut it out!"

"I will do no such think until you tell me where that insufferable prat has disappeared to with my knickers!"

Sirius would have laughed, but something told him that wasn't a good idea. (For someone with such delicate hands, that girl could _hit_.) "What are you on about, you psychotic witch?"

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Lily backed away and pulled out her wand. "You asked for it, Black!" she shrieked. Sirius was sure most of the common room was transfixed by now, and therefore he wasn't the only one who watched as Lily's wand made the signature jabbing motion that always accompanied a Stinging Hex.

Sirius dove to the side just in time to narrowly miss the rush of bright, white light that sliced through the air. Unfortunately, he chose the _wrong _side, and consequently tumbled over an armchair, the occupant of which looked none too thrilled to find himself with a lapful of teenage boy.

"_BLACK!_" screamed Lily in her most foreboding voice. Sirius jumped up and ran for it. She, of course, chased after him, but – _thank God_ – someone was kind enough to hit her with a Jelly-Legs Jinx. Sirius was too busy dashing up the stairs to the dorms to take the time to see who it had been, but he appreciated it, nonetheless.

He busted through the door marked _Sixth Years_ and flung himself across the room and onto his bed. The door fell shut behind him as he buried his face in his pillow.

"Did I miss something?" asked Remus.

Sirius jumped in surprise; he hadn't realized he wasn't alone.

"Only Evans trying to hex my bits off," he panted, sitting up properly.

"And what a shame that would've been," deadpanned Remus from his bed. He was lying on his stomach, with his head at the foot, leaning on his elbows and reading _Taming the Echidna_. The book was excessively large, and Remus was only about twenty pages in. The spin was sorely beat up, and the pages – from what Sirius could see – were yellowed with age. There were small silver brackets on the two outside corners of the binding, and they contrasted sharply with the smooth golden pattern of the cover.

"What's that even about?" asked Sirius, motioning to the book.

"It's a soppy romance novel Lily suggested I read a few weeks ago. It's slow going, and there aren't even any female characters other than Emrick's little sister yet."

"Fascinating," said Sirius, not bothering to cover his sarcasm. "What in the world possessed Prongs to nick Evans' knickers?"

Remus glanced up, eyebrows knit together in confusion, and Sirius' heart stuttered. "He didn't? Last I saw, he was about to go beat up some poor Slytherin bloke for spreading rumors."

This time, when Sirius' heart skipped, it was for a totally different reason. "What about?" he asked, even though he had a feeling he knew the answer already.

"I've no idea. I was too busy trying to keep Peter from vomiting on my shoes. I had to take him down to Madam Pomfrey in the end, and when I came back James was gone. And you weren't here either, which I found odd. What kept you?"

"Er," stalled Sirius. "Just… Relaxing a little. Thinking."

Remus looked at him for a long minute, and Sirius knew Remus knew he was lying, but neither one of them said anything, which was just fine because Sirius was perfectly content to stare into Remus' amber eyes like the girl he seemed to be turning into. How he had ever thought the pink attractive was a mystery now. Their natural color had a brilliant beauty that no spell could ever duplicate, and _Merlin_, Sirius was captivated. A smile crept onto his face, and to say he was pleased to see the same grin echoed on Remus' face would be an understatement.

Sirius climbed off his bed and migrated to Remus'. The squeeze was tight, but Sirius hadn't realized how much he had missed Remus' body pressed against his until it returned. Remus rolled onto his back, and Sirius faced him, propped up on one arm.

"You're full of bull," said Remus to the ceiling. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," replied Sirius. "But you wouldn't have me any other way."

Remus let his head fall so he was facing Sirius, who was suddenly quite hot. Their faces were so incredibly close that Sirius could almost taste Remus' lips, and in that moment he felt as if he had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to kiss Remus. His breath hitched, and he knew he was being an utter ponce, but he couldn't care less.

Sirius wondered what Remus would do if he were to close that infinitesimal distance between them and just end it all then. He wondered what would happen if he dragged his hand across that horribly tiny space that might as well have been the English Channel and pulled their faces together. He wondered what Remus would say if Sirius kissed him.

Acting on the moment, Sirius leaned forward, just a bit, but Remus was already turning away. Sirius caught himself before he ended up snogging werewolf ear, but he had to swallow back an unexpected lump of disappointment. He was acting like a prat.

"You got that right," said Remus, and Sirius couldn't remember for the life of him what they'd been talking about.

**Bwahahaha! Bet you didn't see that little bit of opening boy-love coming (pun intended)! What's that? Oh. You did. I see how it is. But I figured it's about time Sirius got some. And I loosely based this chapter off the song 'Less Cute' by Say Anything. I definitely suggest listening to it. It's fantastic. On an unrelated note, I am proud to say that this is officially my longest fic (chapter-wise)! This makes me crazy happy, so please review! ^_^**


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